[color=92278f][b]“... treat it with care, Pithy.”[/b][/color] Bonesword held out his phylactery in his hand as he held the other out empty. [color=92278f][b]“Put yours in my other hand. We’ll let go of ours on three.”[/b][/color]

Pithy took a deep breath, stepping closer. Her mind raced. The phylactery she had produced had belonged to her first opponent, overlaid with a simply illusion to prevent the undead from realizing it had long ceased functioning. True to what he had told her, the cold that had come with the use of her power seemed to have gone unnoticed by him, but she remained wary. 

[i]Will the illusion continue to fool him once he holds the phylactery in his heart? Will he even allow things to go that far?[/i] It had become increasingly apparent from the company Bonesword kept and the way he spoke that he had yet to realize fighting his opponent was not the only way forward in the Crucible. If he was playing along merely to have her move within reach, she might well be at his mercy. Her gaze strayed to the swords by the fire—[i]out of reach[/i]—then to the large snake beast studying her from behind the bone man. She did not know how fast that thing could move if provoked, nor Bonesword’s capabilities even if unarmed. Some skeletal undead might break apart with a sudden shove, but such beings did not wear armor or wield three blades in the first place.

She held the bitter knowledge that she would have to trust that glimmer of honor Bonesword had shown her—if she wished to betray it.

All too soon she stood before him, and she forced the torrent of thoughts to still. She reached out to the proffered phylactery, even as she placed the one she held on Bonesword’s waiting grasp.

Her gaze returned the skeleton’s own. She was committed. “One.”

The pause felt eternal, and Pithy searched those glowing orbs for a hint that she might be attacked, even if she doubted she could see such a thing coming. Grins were all a skull could offer her and reading such an expression was an exercise in futility. Bonesword, however, did not move against her.

[color=92278f][b]”Two.”[/b][/color]

She felt pity, then, for this creature chosen to believe her. Not enough to dissuade her from her course, however. She had already gone too far to turn back, and this trick was preferable to the alternative in any case.

[color=92278f][b]”Thr[/b][/color]ee,” the two said in unison. Like that, the hearts switched hands.

Bonesword stepped back after taking Pithy’s phylactery. He stared at the object for a few seconds before he let out a chuckle. [color=92278f][b]”Heh, you know, I never actually stopped to hold these things. They’re incredibly weird.”[/b][/color]

“Indeed.” Pithy stepped back as well, her free hand reaching up for the chain around her neck. The trap had been sprung and, simple as it was, Bonesword had been caught in it.

She pulled out the phylactery she had been wearing as a necklace, hidden under her shirt and robe. This time, Pithy thought she could see the thoughts forming inside the creature’s skull. As the skeleton’s head tilted, the shining wisps of its eyes angling first towards the dead heart it held in its hand, and then to the metal familiar still aiming at her, she could point at the budding confusion, the shock of realization, and the flare of outrage, all in but a moment. He had seen this all in Mountain Dew’s face that very same day, and much like that time, the result of the encounter had already been decided.

“I might have gotten it wrong,” she agreed. Just as she sunk the needle of her phylactery into Bonesword’s.

[color=92278f][b]”FUCK N—”[/b][/color] The skeleton’s exclamation twisted into a pained scream. [color=92278f][b]”GRAAAAAAAAGH! YOU FUCKING BITCH! WHERE IS YOUR HONOR?!”[/b][/color]

Pithy’s attention focused to the snake beast as it finally moved against her. As the monster twisted to lash out with its tail, Pithy threw herself back, turning to land on her side, phylacteries held protectively in her arms. She found the beginnings of a spell starting to take form, when the pitch of Bonesword’s screams changed. 

The snake paused in its approach, paralyzed by the desperation in those wails, and Pithy found her magic dissipating as she failed to give it form.  

The lights in Bonesword’s eyes began to flicker as the skeleton curled up into the fetal position. [color=92278f][b]”I HAVE NOTHING! THAT’S MY TRUE SOUL!”[/b][/color]

With that last proclamation, the screaming ceased. The snake turned back towards its master, slithering closer to the skeleton, and Pithy heaved a great sigh of relief. She glanced at her own phylactery, noting the new lights that had appeared on its side. Removing her phylactery from Bonesword’s, she pulled it over her neck, once again hiding it under her shirt.

The deed was done. 

She heard Dew’s tentative approach, and she lifted her head to face him. He, however, was not facing her. His gaze was fixed on the snake and its skeletal master, a shaken grimace twisting his pallid features. Pithy needed no mirror to know she wore the same expression.

“Was that…” he swallowed, recovering his voice. “When did you switch the phylacteries?”

“I didn’t. I gave him the dead one at the start. Kept his eyes on it.” She found the explanation came quickly and readily, her adrenaline finding ways to work its way out of her system even without the expected battle.

“But that one was working. I heard the gears inside.”

“An illusion,” she stated, her gaze turning back towards the snake. She frowned as she saw the way it nudged Bonesword’s body.

Dew’s eyes finally turned away from the skeleton to give her an annoyed glare. “Illusions now? Are you just going to keep popping up with new powers out of nowhere whenever you’re stumped? That’s the mark of shitty writing I tell ya.”

“A good mage never reveals all her cards,” she answered impassively. The brunt of her attention still rested over the skeleton resting some distance away. The snake had curled around the body, hiding it from view. [i]Something… something is wrong, is it not?[/i] “It is hardly my specialty, in any case. It worked this time, since the illusion was fairly close to reality and Bonesword confirmed he could not feel heat.”

“Then that cold breeze…”

“There was no breeze. What you felt was power leaking from the spell.” She stood suddenly. “You were not out for this long. He should have recovered by now.”

She approached the stump, only for the humungous snake to raise its head, hissing menacingly at her. Pithy’s fear flared along with her irritation. She took a step back, a hand going to the rapier at her waist. 

“Let me through!” she roared. “Your master should be unharmed!”

She had not expected anything out of the outburst. Which was why she was surprised when, after giving her a slow, surly growl, the plant monster uncoiled from around the body, slithering back in such a way that she had a clear path towards it. It twisted in place on itself, its head angled watchfully towards her.

Pithy carefully studied its posture. “Can you understand words?”

The beast did not give a clear indication that it had heard her. Instead, its head angled towards the skeleton before turning to point at her. One did not need to be particularly perceptive to understand the intent of the gesture.

She glanced at Dew behind her. He had his longshooter aimed at the snake, but shrugged when he noticed her look.

Pithy swallowed with a dry throat and carefully moved forward, mindful of the beast studying her every move. Only once she stood a step away from the skeleton did she look down. 

The skeleton she saw was much the same as the one that only moments ago had stood before her, but now the wisps of light inhabiting its eye-sockets had vanished. The invisible links that had seemed to hold the bones together under its clothing seemed to have disappeared as well, and the bones simply rested over the ground, unconnected.

Pithy kneeled over it and closed her eye, questing outwards with sorcerous senses.

A kind of magic had animated Bonesword’s body. Magic strong and complex enough to contain, or at the very least imitate, a soul, and give it fine control over an incomplete vessel. Even if its specifics were largely unrecognizable to her as a result of its otherworldly origin, such magic would have to leave traces she could find.

She nodded to herself. [i]And it indeed left traces, but that is all I feel. Remains. Much like the corpse wasting away in front of me.[/i]

Pithy opened her eye. For a long moment, she stared mutely at the corpse’s grinning skull.

“He is gone,” she stated.

As if to crush any doubts regarding its comprehension, the plant snake rose its head to the sky and let out a keening, grieving wail. After a time, the cry died down, and the beast coiled into itself, spent, and seemingly uncaring of the pair’s presence. 

“Hang on,” Dew said, approaching her. “What do you mean he’s gone? Gone like, dead? [i]Dead[/i], dead? You did that same thing to me and I’m here,” he paused for a moment, then scowled. “Don’t tell me you could have killed me when you pulled that shit at the gallery!”

“Perhaps,” Pithy said, before her mind caught up to her mouth. Before Dew could latch onto that, she quickly amended. “No. I did not know what would happen at the time, but I do not think it could have killed you. Bonesword, however, was different. The only thing linking him to this world was his soul, and whatever magic held it in place within his vessel. When one of those was disturbed…” Pithy closed her eye, then shook her head. “It would be simpler to say that the strength of your existence was greater than his.” 

Opening her eye, she found her gaze being drawn to the phylactery clutched amidst the remains, the one she had taken from her first opponent in this ritual. The bones in the skeleton’s hands had scattered around it now that no magic held them together, leaving only hints that at one point it had been held protectively to the skeleton’s chest as though it would somehow soothe the pain.

Pithy delicately brushed some fingerbones away before reclaiming the dead heart. She returned it to its place at her belt.

“I did not intend for this to happen.” She was not sure if she was speaking for Dew’s benefit, the snake’s, or even her own. “The cooperation I envisioned was not the one he did, but this was not what I hoped for.”

Pithy searched herself to identify the emotion that now filled her. 

Not regret. If her ploy did not work, she had every intention of killing Bonesword to obtain his soul. With that in mind, the events that had unfolded meant she had accomplished her objective without the need of a protracted battle, like her first two encounters with contestants in the Crucible. While she had been deprived of an ally, she could not say she could regret the outcome. While there was anger at that thought, frustration was not what moved her to speak.

It was shame that burned her. The fact that she had betrayed the naïve undead, taken advantage of his notions of honor and trust to make him submit, and could even then continue to think with the cold, calculating notions of benefits and costs when examining the taking of his life.

[i]Or what remained of it.[/i]

Pithy smiled sadly. “I intended to tell him, after this. About his wish. How it angered me when I heard it.”

“Only you’d be angry at someone trying to revive the love of their life. Or maybe it bothers you that people have reasons to get in your way at all.” Dew let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, I’ll bite. What about it bothered you?”

“How generous of you,” Pithy responded, dryly. Gingerly, she wrapped her hands around Bonesword’s skull, holding it such that it faced her, as though she wished to have a conversation. “By itself it was not a bad wish. Why, it is straight out of a fairytail. A gallant knight braving impossible dangers to bring the one he loves more dearly than life itself back from the grip of death. Minstrels in the human towns I have visited love that kind of material. What I questioned was not his desire, so much as his involvement in this tournament.” 

“I think I know where you’re going with this,” Dew said, sourly. “It’s about his world, right? Where ‘death is meaningless.’” Pithy looked up at him, wide-eyed, and Dew grimaced. “Come on, you don’t have to look so shocked. I was paying [i]some[/i] attention.”

The elf nodded. “You are right, however. That inconsistency made me think he might be lying about his purpose.”

“Didn’t seem the kind to do that, though. Hell, if he [i]was[/i] he probably wouldn’t have gotten bumped off like that.”

“Indeed. However, that makes his presence here even more galling.” She looked at the skull in her hands. “The dead have nothing but time. All the time he could ever want. He could have waited for another opportunity, sought another way. Instead, he accepted the College’s offer. Deemed the death of thirty other competitors an acceptable sacrifice, and set out to reap their souls. Never mind what this lover of his would think once she learned the price of her life.”

“You’re not much better, Pithy.”

“Neither are you,” she retorted, easily. “But we do not have a dead man’s time. Time is the one thing I lack, in fact. In the end, if there was a failing to this one, it was not his trust, nor the way he sought to behave with honor. It was that he chose the wrong battles—and sought the wrong peace.”

Dew chewed on her words for a few seconds, before letting out a huff. “Damn. I’m sure not letting you write my elegy.”

“Eulogy, Dew. I’m not a lyricist. You writing mine is more likely regardless, and isn’t [i]that[/i] a terrifying notion.” She gently returned the skull to its resting place, before she began to methodically rifle through the objects that remained on the skeleton. 

The armor she left alone, noting it would not fit her, but her eyes fell over a large, bracelet-like object that clashed with the rest of the warrior’s attire. 

[i]Perhaps something he found in this realm?[/i] Without Bonesword to answer, she could only guess. Nonetheless, it was small enough to take with her. “Dew, do you know what this is?” she asked, raising the device.

“Lemme look.” He said, bringing it close to his face. “Hm… not sure. Looks like a bit like a bulky-ass watch, but it doesn’t show the time.” He paused, then returned it to her. “The face looks like a big button, actually. Feels kinda familiar.”

Pithy took it, holding it pensively for a moment before she fastened it onto her belt, unwilling to wear it without any knowledge as to its function. With the body dealt with, Pithy approached the weapons Bonesword had set aside.

“Doesn’t look like we can see the stats,” Dew commented. “Damn, we might need someone to appraise them. I hate that kind of loot system.”

Most of the time, Dew seemed focused on the world around him, but occasionally he would suddenly begin spouting nonsense. It was worrying in that she was not certain if the man was afflicted by some kind of madness or if he was referring to something specific to his own realm. Choosing to ignore his rambling, Pithy knelt before the three swords. 

She reached an arm out to touch one, and found herself shivering. “These blades are thirsty,” she observed.

“For blood? What, like they’re cursed?” Dew said with uncharacteristic interest. It seemed the idea of robbing Bonesword’s corpse had lifted his spirits.

Pithy grimaced. It was an overly simplistic way of describing it, but it was not entirely wrong. “In a manner of speaking, though I do not believe this was an enchantment placed by a mage. Rather, it is writ on their histories.”

“I get it. So they’re old.”

Pithy sighed. “Yes, Dew. Old.” She forced her hand forward and gripped the cutlass. The weapon felt heavy inside its sheath, and Pithy drew it to examine its edge. Once satisfied, she sheathed it and stood, still gripping the weapon. “Store the other two. It would be irresponsible to leave them here.”

“Oh boy!” he said giddily. “Does that mean I get a katana?”

“If you refer to the curved one, I don’t see an issue with you keeping it. Do not play with the black one, however. It may be properly cursed.”

“Oh. And you still want me to carry it.” The man paused, as if deep in thought, then shrugged. “Yeah, sure, what’s the worst that could happen at this point? The katana is clearly the better of the three anyway.” 

As he went to claim them, Pithy was alerted to motion off the corner of her eye. When she went to look, she caught sight of the snake monster looming over its master’s body. It nudged its skull, rolling it towards Pithy and Dew, gently repeating the process until it was all but presented to the elf.

Pithy bent and, warily eyeing the beast, took it in her free hand. “What about this skull?” She doubted the snake was demanding a burial. Such a thing would hold no meaning for an animal. 

At her query, the beast lowered its head. Pithy had to force herself not to drop the skull to draw out the cutlass from its scabbard as it moved closer. With the tip of its nose, it forcefully nudged the skull, making her stumble back a step.

“You’re way too calm around that thing. You got its owner killed. It might just gobble you up when you’re not looking.”

“I’m aware. Deeply aware.” Yet, if the monster still wished them harm, it had had ample opportunity to attack them. Had it been cowed by the death of its previous master? She looked down to the skull she cradled, then back at the snake. “Did Bonesword bring you here from his world?”

The beast shook its head side to side. Pithy was taken aback by the clear response. [i]Just how intelligent is this thing?[/i] Yet the answer brought another question to mind. If Bonesword had not brought the snake along, why was it so attached to him? She doubted a stray monster would form such a bond in the two days the competitors had spent in this realm.

“Did he find you here?”

A pause. Then another shake. No.

“Did he make you?”

Vigorous nodding, enough to convince her the beast understood exactly what she was asking of it.

[i]Bonesword did mention control over plants. Yet for this construct to continue to act as such with its creator gone... could he have placed a piece of his soul within it?[/i] It was a possibility worth exploring. If that was the case, the same constraints that applied to Dew might well apply to it.

“Dew, we are taking the skull with us. I’ll leave it in your care.”

“That’s creepy,” he commented, rising from his place near the burnt bush. The two swords she had left in his care were nowhere to be seen. He took the skull when she offered it, and it vanished into his pocket.

Pithy ignored him, glancing towards the nearby drone. “That machine may point us to the next enemy, but nighttime is approaching. I’d rather avoid navigating this city in the dark without good cause.” She gave the surrounding buildings an appraising look. “Our business here is concluded. Let’s find shelter.” 

With that, she set off. Dew followed, and, to her satisfaction, so did Bonesword’s monster.